Observations in the Midst of Life
by mysticamethyst87
Summary: A series of ficlets from Sara and Catherine's POV as life at the Las Vegas Crime Lab progresses. Does their opinion of the other change? And is it for better or worse? Better than it sounds...i think. HIATUS
1. Honey and Vinegar

Summary-Sara and Catherine don't get along. That's a fact the whole lab knows. Yet, is it really as straightforward as that? Or is there more to it?

Pairing-Sara/Catherine

Disclaimer-I DO NOT own CSI. I have never owned CSI. I will never own CSI. The show would not have Sara pining over Grissom if I owned it.

**WARNING-****Femmeslash abounds. If this bothers you, back away now. That nice back button on your browser will help. If not, please keep reading.**

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Chapter 1-Honey or Vinegar?

Sara's POV

Nick and Warrick playing on the PS2, Greg talking about some girl he's going out with tonight and Grissom is doing some crossword puzzle. I? I'm sitting quietly on the sofa, reading a forensic journal.

Then, _she_ walks into the room. Immediately, the subtle changes are noticeable. Greg doesn't talk as fast as normal, and Warrick and Nick turn around to say hello immediately. Even Grissom looks up at her, as the others ask how her day off was.

Fascinated, I watch them, as they all seem to crowd around her like so many bees to honey. Usually, I just sit there reading and keep on reading, though occasionally I glance up at her. Even I cannot help the occasional looks. Later on, not one word of what was in the magazine will remain in my memory.

Some days, when I look at her, she is staring at me, and inwardly, I can't help but wonder whether she's sweet like honey too, whether that is how she would act, how she would _taste_. Then, one of her caustic comments come flying at me, and quickly, I glance back down at the journal, tears stinging at the back of my eyes.

Only I know the truth. Outwardly, she's all honey and sugary sweet syrup…inwardly; she's vinegar and lemon, leaving a bitter aftertaste, acidic. Why then, so I keep glancing up, and wondering? Why do I go back for more?

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End of Chapter 1, sorry its sort of short :( 


	2. Forever the Scientist

PAIRING: Catherine/Sara  
DISCLAIMERS: Hey, if I owned CSI, then by now, Catherine and Sara would have had their one year anniversary.  
WARNING: Femslash. If you've read the first chapter you'll have guessed that and won't be reading this.  
SUMMARY:. -Sara and Catherine don't get along. That's a fact the whole lab knows. Yet, is it really as straightforward as that? Or is there more to it?

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Chapter 2-Forever a Scientist

She's a workaholic, forever a scientist. She's always there, day and night, in the labs, maxing out on overtime nearly every month. Me? I have a child to look after, so usually, I clock in when shift starts and clock out again when it finishes.

If I get in before shift starts, I head to the break room. Most of the time everyone is there already, even Grissom, who's immersed in some crossword puzzle. Warrick and Nick are on the PS2, and Greg's talking about well…something or the other, to anyone who'll listen. Sara, as ever, is sitting slightly apart from the others, head down in some journal on forensics. 'Forever the scientist' I think to myself, annoyed, although to be honest, I am impressed by her dedication as well, in spite of myself.

When I enter, Warrick and Nick turn that console thing off, and start talking to me, and Greg tones his voice down a little so he can listen in. Even Gil looks up and offers me a small smile, before returning to his paper. From Sara, there is no acknowledgment that I even exist.

Yet, even though there are so many people paying attention to me, still out of the periphery of my eye, I gaze at her. Every so often, she will glance up from the journal, and look in my direction.

For some reason, when this happens my heart jumps just a tiny bit, and I do not understand why. Perhaps, even though it feels like more, it is in the expectation that maybe she too, will finally put the magazine away and talk to me, a proper conversation, such as which we have never had.

Its my fault of course. The minute she came I saw her as an outsider, coming…sniffing around, investigating one of my best friends. It went deeper than that though. She was a woman. Not just any woman, but this bright, young Harvard graduate, and Gil's friend to boot. Holly wasn't a threat…Sara was. So my bitchy side took over, and the snide comments began. By the time I realised that she wasn't trying to compete with me, and all she wanted…wants…is to do her job…it was too late to build bridges. She had _identified_ me, in her mind, as a bitch, no doubt a very _logical _conclusion, and everyone had classified our antagonistic relationship as simply another fact of life, much like Einstein's Theory of Relativity.

It is difficult, but not impossible to disprove a fact. Yet it can be done, such as when it was proved the world was round, not flat like everyone thought. So still a part of me hopes that somehow, someday, we can be friends. So, when the expression on her face is one of scrutiny, as if I am a piece of evidence which she wants to process, I am hurt. Before I can stop, another comment flies out of my mouth, and she quickly glances away again, back to the journal.

Meanwhile, the guys, who barely even notice those remarks anymore, are including me in their plans for the weekend. So why, while I am surrounded by them, do I keep her in my line of sight? Why do I care about the glimpse of hurt that passes across her features before they once more become inscrutable, so quickly that I wonder if it was there at all, or if she was still just analysing us all? Why do I care about her?

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Please R+R.? 


	3. Social Butterfly and the Caterpillar

TITLE: Social Butterfly and the Caterpillar  
AUTHOR: Mystic Amethyst  
PAIRING: Catherine/Sara  
DISCLAIMERS: Hey, if I owned CSI, then by now, Catherine and Sara would have had their one year anniversary.  
RATINGWARNINGS: G-PG  
SUMMARY: Sara's POV, in the break room, three months after Eddie's death.

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Social Butterfly and the Caterpillar

I'm in the break room once again. It seems like an age since I was  
last here. Recently we've been so snowed under that I have been  
actually living in the lab, rarely finding time to just sit down. In  
fact, the last time I relaxed in here is close on three months ago  
now I think.

Looking around, I contemplate the changes. Nick and Warrick are  
playing an XBOX; they must have traded the PS2 in. Greg isn't in the  
room, and, to my surprise, I miss his voice rambling on. Grissom is  
in his office, I think, playing with his beloved bugs.

Everything is still almost the same. I still sit alone, reading  
another journal. No one even acknowledges my existence.

I thought things were changing two months ago. Hank turned out to be  
a lousy, two timing jerk. She asked me out for a drink. So we went,  
and bonded over all the assholes that came and went in our lives. She  
talked about Paul and Eddie, and I about Hank and Larry back in San  
Francisco.

At that time, the comments aimed at me grew less, the tension in the  
labs easing somewhat. Finally, I began to see what the others saw,  
the sweet side, the one which cared. Even when we argued, coping with  
it grew easier, because I sensed underlying good humour.

Often, for no reason at all, I would glance up at her in the break  
room, when we were there together, not knowing why. While I had done  
that before, now it grew more frequent.

Then, a month ago, it all got shot to high heaven. Eddie died. Trust  
an asshole like that to muck things up, even in death. No one else in  
the lab was impartial, so Grissom entrusted me with the case.

Two liars and no murder weapon…how could I solve it? Yet, even  
when the case was officially closed, every hour that I had to spare  
went into doing just that. Any clues that were potentially overlooked  
were chased up…for Lindsey…for _Catherine_.

I failed. In her eyes, it was as simple as that. No matter that I  
doubt even _Grissom_ could have solved the case. Apparently, every comment  
she ever threw at me, became justified that night. If anything,  
afterwards, they became even more cutting, almost vitriolic.

Before, they were about me as a person. P.E… (Post Eddie), they were  
about my work. Snippets still fly around in my head.

"Are you sure you can handle this case Sara?"  
"Do your best…no one can ask for more, right?"

Still, the revelation that I received on the night of Eddie's death  
made it hard for me to hate her. You see, she said, before she went  
home

"What a great bedtime story for my little girl"

Her voice cracked just the tiniest bit. And while it was a barb,  
aimed to hit, and hit hard, as indeed it did, it barely hurt. Why you  
ask? Because all that I could see right then, was a shock of golden  
red hair, for once, slightly askew, and a face which bore the sign of  
recent tears, both from puffy red eyes, and tear tracks. All I could  
hear was a woman who was trying desperately to give her child  
closure, being strong for her, while barely standing herself. I  
didn't give that to them…I failed.

So now, when she sweeps into the break room, and Nick and Warrick  
look up from the XBOX again, where when I came in they ignored me,  
just like three months ago, and Grissom wanders in to check up on the  
case all three of us are working on, my eyes remain fixed on my  
journal, and there is no longer any anger in me. It's my fault for  
not being better at what I do.

Her sharp, sarcastic quips come at me, and with every one, a few  
tears come to my eyes. Sometimes, perforce, I snap back. Today, she  
made a comment unexpectedly, and, for just a brief second, my eyes  
met hers.

I looked away to the coffee mug on the table. When her back was  
turned, I took a fleeting look at her again, as she laughed with the  
others. Now I know why I have done so for as long as I have worked  
here.

She is the proverbial social butterfly and I less than the  
caterpillar it initially was. Why would someone so open and able to  
be at ease in any situation look at me, when I failed in even the  
area I am best at…my work? Yet, still, I live in hope, that someday,  
she'll look… and instead of Sara Sidle, screw up, she'll see _me_.


	4. Push Away or Pull Close?

TITLE: Push Away or Pull Close?

AUTHOR: Mystic Amethyst  
PAIRING: Catherine/Sara  
DISCLAIMERS: Hey, if I owned CSI, then by now, Catherine and Sara would have had their one year anniversary.  
RATINGWARNINGS: G-PG  
SUMMARY: Catherine's POV, three months after Eddie's death.

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Push Away or Pull Close?

Striding into the office, I consider stepping into the locker room first to fix my appearance. Too much overtime recently has not been kind to my face, if the bags under my eyes are anything to go by. A particularly effervescent hug from Linds before I left has knocked my hair slightly awry as well. Ah well, rather awry hair and a hug than beautiful hair and no hug.

Still, I'm running late…again. I really hope Gil doesn't notice….what _am_ I _saying_? The man will notice, he notices everything. ALTHOUGH….he never reads his memos. I could tell him there's a reason I'm late, and that I put it in a memo. That's just too easy though, plus afterwards I always feel bad about doing it.

At least there's only one case at the moment. Granted, its fairly large, five DBs at the MGM Grand, but at least three CSIs are working on it because its high profile. Grissom, Sara _and _I…fun!

Working with Grissom is alright. We have an understanding, he processes without emotions, always looking simply at the evidence, and I use both evidence and my emotional intuition to solve a case. Our working relationship is defined. Sara and I…well let's just say the relationship is defined, we speak to each other only when absolutely necessary. Grissom and Sara…well that relationship is interesting. She looks up to him, tries to be the best for him, and caters to all his whims, and he remains oblivious to her. A small smirk crosses my features. Sara Sidle is failing at something…and I'm glad. Mean and small spirited of me…but at least it proves she's human and not a reincarnated goddess.

She sort of told me about the Gil thing when we went out for a drink after Hank two timed on her. She really should have known with an asshole like that. There's enough gossip about him around the labs, but she obviously hadn't heard it. Some people will say I should have told her…but she'd never have believed me. I've been where she was, and trust me… 'de-nial runs deep there'. Anyway, we went to this bar I like for times like that, because it's quiet, and you can sob in peace.

We exchanged stories, I told her about Eddie and all the sleazy guys who were always trying to feel me up while I was still stripping. She talked about this guy called Larry back in San Francisco, and of course Hank. She didn't break down though, which was good. Obviously, she wasn't all _that_ into him. Once she was well and truly pissed, however, she started talking about how much she liked Grissom. I just rolled my eyes, having drunk far more than this when I was stripping, I was still mostly sober. As if that wasn't obvious from her everyday actions anyway.

Tentatively, we had forged the start of a new friendship. The bickering we took part in eased off and I think the lab even stopped placing bets on when one of us would kill the other. Things were going really well, and I was happy. Sometimes, she would smile at me, and I would be happy, because she never smiles very often, and I made her do so. Things were going well.

Famous last words. A month later, Eddie died. I still remember the scared sound of my little girl's voice while I was at the crime scene with Nick. What if I hadn't figured out it was her? What if she had….I shudder away from that thought. She _didn't_, she's safe at Nancy's.

Breaking all speed limits, FUCK them, my little girl was in danger, I got to her. I rescued her out of that car, which was almost fully submerged in the lake. .As I held her to me, I vowed to find out who was responsible for putting her in that position and I would _make_ them **pay** No one messes with the wellbeing of my little girl. Later on, they found Eddie dead. My little girl no longer had a Dad. I was even more determined that someone should pay.

Then, that night, watching Sara interview 'the pink haired lady', as Lindsey dubbed her, I was stunned by her audacity. How dare she call Lindsey a stupid, screaming little brat? I was gonna tear that bitch a new one, and I almost did, before Sara pulled me out the room. At the time, my anger was such that I didn't care about my position, and I remember everything I said very clearly

Flashback

"_What the hell are you doing? Do you know where you're at right now?"_

"_I've been here a lot longer than you ..."_

_  
"And you should know better."_

_  
"And I wouldn't have to be here if you were doing your job properly."_

_  
"There is a difference between me doing my job and you wanting to do it  
for me. You don't want to get the job done. What you want, right now, is  
revenge."_

_  
"You're going to tell me what I want, huh?"_

_  
"Go home, Catherine. Be with your daughter. She's the one that needs  
you."_

End Flashback

She was calm and rational, and used the one thing that would pull me out of my angry haze…my daughter. I needed her to be calm right then, and unknowingly, she did it. She succeeded again.

Yet, the one time she really needed to succeed…she failed. Logically, I know it can't be helped. No murder weapon, two liars…no one could solve that case. Not even Grissom. In my mind though, she was perfect Sara Sidle. She could solve anything. Except this. And I blamed her for it.

So in the absence of anyone else to pay for everything that happened that night, she was the most convenient target.

Flashback

"_So you're calling it?"_

She stopped writing and turned to face me.

"_I got two liars and no murder weapon ... and no choice. I'm going to  
nail the singer on child endangerment and fleeing the scene, and the dealer goes  
up on possession for sale."_

"_What a great bedtime story for my little girl"_

"_Cath, I did my best."_

I didn't say anything

End Flashback

I implied her best wasn't good enough. Her face crumpled then, and I could see that what I did had hit her hard. I doubted her _work_…the one thing she lives for. At that moment, all I wanted to do was apologise and hold her, even in the midst of my grief.

Suddenly, I realised why I was so happy at the friendship that had been building, why I was happy when she smiled at me. I was in love with her…I Catherine Willows, was _in love_ with Sara Sidle. It was too much. N top of everything else that night, I couldn't cope with that. So I fled.

Afterwards, I covered my attraction to her, knowing she felt nothing towards me, knowing of her feelings for Grissom. I did so with more scathing comments, making sure she stayed away from me by pretending to doubt the quality of her work. It worked like a charm.

So now, as I enter the break room, and just like three months ago, Nick and Warrick switch off their new console to talk to me. Meanwhile, Grissom comes out of the office, and draws me to one side to talk about our case, and Sara isn't included for some reason, even though she is in the room, reading a journal. It's about the blood splatter, at which I'm the expert, that's why.

Still, as I covertly watch Sara, I see the flash of hurt fly across her face, because she can not hear us and inwardly know I've pushed her yet further away. I should be happy. So why does it feel as if a gaping hole as opened in my chest? Why do I want to hug her close and hold her tight, and never…_ever_ let go?

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A/N-Is the continuation OK? Please Review and tell me :). 


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